


Too far away to love, too close to ignore

by Clarounette



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarounette/pseuds/Clarounette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's still the beginning of their relationship. Why do they have to be separated for so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too far away to love, too close to ignore

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fassavoy Fortnightly 9 on LJ.

“How long?”  
“Two weeks at the utmost. But actually I really don’t know. It depends on the client. If he agrees with our offer and signs the contract, I can be back by Friday.”  
James and Michael lay leisurely sprawled out on the bed after a passionate bout of lovemaking. Sweat is slowly cooling on their skin; beads of it still shine in the setting sun entering the room through the window.  
Tomorrow, Michael will be gone, and none of them know for how long. For now, as if he wants to make up with James in advance for the time he won’t spend with the younger man, Michael traces patterns on his boyfriend’s back with the tip of his index finger, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

When Michael is finally asleep, James has turned on his back and his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. Two weeks, it’s nothing. They’ve only been dating for twice that time. He remembers when he was in college and his boyfriend left for an entire month on holidays with his family. When Bruce – he thinks it was his name – and oh god, he slept with a Bruce – when Bruce came back, James told him it was over without even flinching. Someone else had caught his interest and Bruce was already a memory.  
But just the idea of being away from Michael for a few days is painful. A weird knot squeezes his chest, threatening to make him choke on his own breath.  
He has understood for some times now that his relationship with Michael is serious. But it takes a simple announcement – of a business trip, no more – to make him realize how serious. How is he supposed to go from flirts to real love? He doesn’t know if he can manage that.  
Plus he’s not certain his feelings are reciprocated. Sure Michael seems to enjoy himself around him, invites him on dates several times each week. They tumble into bed most of the time too. That doesn’t mean Michael shares his blooming love. For all he knows, for Michael, it could be just a fling…  
They’ll be separated for some times? Fine, maybe it’s for the best. Maybe Michael will miss him as much as James will. If not, well… At least it’s a sure way to settle their situation.  
James rolls in the coverlet and falls asleep.

*****

The city is lovely at this time of the year. A powdered light makes its way between the high buildings, throwing shadows on the pavement. The park in front of Michael’s hotel welcomes laughing children and young couples holding hands. It really is lovely.  
But darkness creeps in Michael’s heart. The sun can’t reach his mind. Something is missing, and he knows exactly what it is: it has big blue eyes and delicious lips, and it has turned his life upside down four weeks ago like a tornado. And it is half a country away from him.  
They met in a bar. No trumpet cheered, no angel sang. He heard James laughing and was drawn by the sound. He offered a drink. By the end of the night, they exchanged phone numbers. Michael wasted no time and called him the next day. That’s it. But as days passed, he realized it was much more than a flirt. He wanted to spend all his days with James, and he had to refrain from inviting him every night on dates.  
The word ‘love’ has been floating inside his head.  
But not yet. Michael doesn’t want to risk their relationship with words too heavy for their tongues. He is waiting for the perfect moment. Maybe after his trip.

He is sitting in the armchair. He arrived two days ago and clothes are already piling on the floor of his hotel suite. He should bring them to the laundry room later if he wants to have clean suits until the end of his trip. But since he came back from his last meeting, strength has abandoned him. Sitting in this comfortable chair the whole evening doesn’t seem like a bad idea at all. He still can do his laundry tomorrow.  
Noises from the street below float through the open window: cars honking, random conversations, people yelling sometimes, and birds twittering in the park. Separately they would grate on Michael’s nerves, but as it is, they’re music to his daydream. He thinks of James.  
He is so entranced that he doesn’t react at first when his phone rings. The name on display makes his heart skip a beat. He hasn’t heard from James since his departure. He also refused to call him at first, afraid to spill his love to an unsuspecting James when he couldn’t settle the issue face to face.  
He fumbles nervously with the device and finally answers the call.

“Hello Michael! I hope I’m not interrupting you or something.”  
“No! Of course not! How are you doing?”  
Silence is stretching at the other end of the line. When James answers, he seems hesitant. “I’m fine… I guess. Look, I won’t take much of your time, but you weren’t calling me and I just wanted to hear your voice.”  
Michael gasps audibly. He doesn’t let some foolish hope cloud his mind though. He has no idea how to respond to that. “It’s okay. I don’t have anything to do right now.” His words feel too distant. “You don’t need any excuse to call me, really.” Patronizing. “I’ll give you all my time if you want.” Eager much? Desperate even. Gosh, is he digging his own grave with his tongue?  
James must have heard his troubled tone because suddenly he is laughing. Before he can stop his mouth, Michael sighs: “Oh god, laugh again, please.” It may just be his ears, but his voice sounds strained and unusually low.  
The laugh stops abruptly. Okay, he has done it, he has scared James. Can he die right now?  
“James?” he says, tentatively.  
“… Yes?” Shaking and whispering. The last time he heard James talk like that, Michael was buried deep inside him, and they were both on the edge of an earth-shattering orgasm. Michael wishes it was ecstasy that caused it this time. A nervous and diffident James isn’t as much appealing.  
“Are you okay?” It is a stupid question, but he needs to know. Waiting for James’ answer, he realizes that he is almost standing, ready to go back to James across the country to reassure him. The hell with his job.

After what seems like a lifetime, James finally answers, but it isn’t what Michael was expecting. “What are you wearing?”  
“What?!”  
“Have you removed your jacket already?”  
It can’t be happening. “James, are you kidding me?”  
“Please, play with me. Follow the rules.”  
Michael doesn’t know the rules exactly – he’s not sure they even exist – but he pictures the game pretty well. “Are we really going to have phone sex?”  
James’ silence is enough of an answer. Michael sits back in his armchair and puts his phone on speaker. At the other end of the room, a large mirror reflects Michael’s figure. That could be fun.

“I’m wearing my charcoal suit, but I hung my jacket in the closet earlier. My purple tie is still around my neck. It goes well with the light pink color of my shirt. My shoes are near the door: I’m more comfortable in socks when in hotel rooms.”  
“Okay… You know, you don’t have to give me all the details.” James seems amused. Although it may not be the right atmosphere for what they are about to do, at least Michael hasn’t scared him.  
His turn. “Where are you, James?” Ugh, he doesn’t have to force his voice. For a second he sounded too much like a bad porn actor.  
James isn’t deterred. “I’m sitting on my bed. My shirt is open and I’m slowly caressing my chest.”  
Now that’s an arousing image! Michael’s mother always told him he had a vivid imagination; he’s never been so glad for it. “I’d like to have my own hands on your chest. I’d pinch your nipples through your shirt. You like that, right?”  
“Yes…” James moans.  
The sound is enough to make him hard instantly. “James, did you just…?” He can’t even finish his question. He doesn’t really know what he wanted to ask anyway.  
James laughs breathily. “That’s the whole point, you know? If you want me to pinch my nipples, you say it, and I’ll do it.”  
He can’t think of anything else to say for now. His head is buzzing as all his blood decided to relocate in his nether regions.  
“Michael, I imagine you sitting on a chair, legs spread.” Close enough. “You have beautiful legs, you know? All long and toned. I’d brush my fingers on your ankles, through your socks, and would go up along your calves under the trousers. Then I’d knead your strong thighs. I suppose you can guess where I am exactly in this fantasy.” Smugness suits James perfectly, Michael discovers.  
Oh yes, James on his knees between his legs, his face so close to his throbbing cock. What a pretty fantasy. Michael palms his crotch, hoping for some relief. He’s not sure he can go long like this. “Kiss me, James” he begs. Of course he knows it isn’t possible, but that’s all he wants right now.  
“Can you feel my tongue licking your lower lip? It wants to go inside your mouth. Let me taste you, please, Michael.”  
Michael slips his index finger in his mouth, playing with it like he would with James’ tongue. When he removes it, it makes a satisfying wet plop.  
James must have heard it. “Yes, Michael, like that. I love kissing you. Kissing your neck, your chest…”  
Michael promptly gets rid of his tie and his shirt and follows the suggestion, tracing a path with his wet index finger. It leaves a trail that’s quickly cooling on his skin. The sensation gives him goose bumps. “You’re so beautiful between my legs, with my hands in your hair. You want to suck my cock, don’t you?”  
“Michael…” James has never begged like that. He seems on the verge of crying. It’s so arousing.  
“Say it, James. You won’t have it if you don’t say it.”  
“Yes, please, let me suck you off. I want your dick in my mouth.”

Right now, nothing else exists than James’ voice in his phone and the images painted inside his eyelids. At some point during their exchange Michael has closed his eyes, just to drown in the fantasy. The noises from outside have fainted to a murmur. The room has disappeared around him and he can superimpose anything he wants on the image. Like James on his knees in front of him, his hands in his pants.  
Michael unfastens his trousers and frees his cock from the confines of his briefs. He spits in his palm and grabs his hard length. “Yes, finally” he groans.  
On the other end of the line, Michael hears something popping, like the cap of a little bottle. Even with his mind clouded with passion, he understands what it is. “Touch yourself, James. I want to listen to you masturbating. Go ahead.”  
Soon all that comes from James are little moans and breathy whispers of his name. A few seconds more and he follows, jerking off to the rhythm of James’ music of pleasure. They don’t exchange words anymore, only sounds of ecstasy.  
It could be argued that it was nothing more than masturbation. Michael knows it’s more than that. He pays attention to James’ moans, going faster when James’ breathing speeds up, groaning James’ name when he feels James needs it. They’re sharing a brief moment of total harmony.  
Brief because Michael is going to come, all his senses narrowing to that point where space and time stop, just before he goes over the edge and spills his semen in his welcoming hand. His orgasm almost makes him miss the little cry of ecstasy James utters when he’s finally coming.

For several minutes, they’re both silent, basking in the afterglow.  
His mind numbed, Michael doesn’t really think when he says: “I miss you so much.” The way he says it, of course James knows it has nothing to do with the sex. Michael has just admitted to his feelings, and now he fears rejection.  
“I miss you too, you know.” James’ answer is like a balm to his heart. “Michael, I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. Love you, bye!”  
When James hangs up, Michael doesn’t even notice he’s not on the line anymore. All he can think of are the last words: _“Love you”_.  
It seems Michael will have something to say to James the next time they’re on the phone. Yep, definitely. He can’t wait for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m very late for this one, and I’m sure I’ll be for the next one too; but please enjoy this smut with a bit of love on the side :) It’s the longest fic I’ve ever written in English (that isn’t a translation of my own work in French)…


End file.
